The Duplex
by njbrennan
Summary: Modern A/U: Edith and Sybil Crawley have just moved into a duplex in London to start their careers, totally unaware that they have moved next door to Anthony Strallan and Tom Branson, uncle and nephew, who will turn their world upside down. All characters belong to Fellowes, although he sure doesn't treat them as well as we do! Written for the EAST Alliance. NOW COMPLETE!
1. The Duplex

A/N: So, here's my contribution to the EAST Alliance. I have thoroughly enjoyed reading everyone's stories…so many of them, woohoo! Let me know if you like this one…as an Andith shipper, I hope I can portray Sybil and Tom accurately. Here it goes:

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"Oi! Sybil, give me a hand with this box! Quickly!" Edith shouted, the heavy moving box slipping from her grasp.

Sybil looked over at her elder sister, her was hair up in a messy bun, a sweatshirt and old jeans adorned her sweaty, tired body, and she had one leg hoisted up on the stairs that led to their new duplex, trying her darnedest to regain control of the slipping box. Sybil rapidly set down the small box full of knick-knacks she was pulling from the moving truck and rushed to her sister's aid.

"What on earth is in here? A dead body?" Sybil teased as she and Edith heaved it past the stairs onto the landing of their duplex.

Edith wiped her brow and sheepishly mumbled, "No, just…books."

"I should have known," Sybil teased light-heartedly. If there was one thing that her sister was notorious for, it was being a voracious reader. "That's the last of the big boxes, right? Please tell me it is; I'm utterly exhausted and I just want to order some takeaway and pass out."

"It is, thankfully. Now comes the fun part: unpacking this mess," Edith mused.

As worn out as the Crawley sisters were from a long day of moving, there was a hint of excitement just beneath the surface of their exhaustion. Both women had just finished up with their education, Edith with a master's degree in literature, and Sybil with an undergraduate degree in nursing, and were now starting their careers in London, at a literary magazine and hospital pediatric wing, respectively. They had scrimped and saved for quite a long while, and were at long last moving into a wonderful duplex in London not far from their places of employ. It was on a rather quiet street, with lots of bookstores and coffee shops nearby. Sybil immediately fell in love with it, due to its fantastic kitchen, and Edith eventually agreed that it was the right place for them once she saw the built-in bookshelves in the living room and bedrooms.

But as the Crawley sisters began unloading their possessions from the countless boxes scattered along the floor, they had no idea that just next store there were two men, simply deciding which Thai place to order from, who would change their lives forever.

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Tom Branson stifled a laugh as he watched his uncle fiddle and fumble with his chopsticks. "So, did you notice that we have some new neighbors? I think they just moved in today."

Anthony Strallan abandoned the chopsticks and opted for a fork. Somewhat distractedly, he replied, "Hmm? Oh yes, I heard some commotion earlier while I was working, but when I went outside to see if I could help, they had already gone inside. I thought it best to wait until they're more settled to introduce ourselves, don't you think?"

"Quite right," Tom responded. He was surprised that anything could tear his uncle away from his work, even something as loud as new neighbors moving in. Tom was always proud of the fact that, despite his title, his uncle had decided to make his own way in the world by writing books about nearly every topic in the agriculture genre. And he was even prouder that they had been successful. So, when Anthony warmly opened up his home to Tom while he was looking for work in London as a journalist, Tom enthusiastically agreed. But now, nearly ten months since Tom moved to London and nine months since he found a job, Tom Branson had yet to move out. He and his uncle had become rather close in those months and their routine was a nice one that neither wanted to part with.

"I think tomorrow, I'll go down to that bakery a few blocks away and pick up something tasty to give to our new neighbors," Anthony offered as he wiped his mouth with his napkin, signalling that dinner was over. He stood up and took their plates to the sink. "What do you think?"

"Sounds great! I should be home by six. We could go over after dinner and introduce ourselves?" Tom grinned.

"Perfect," Anthony said, glad that Tom was here with him. His sister had moved to Ireland with her husband many years ago and he seldom got to see them. But having Tom home was like being near to them all; his nephew's smile and eyes were that of his sister's, and every time he spoke, Anthony heard the Irish brogue of his dear brother-in-law. While their views on politics and the like would never match, Anthony admired his nephew's fierceness and had grown to love Tom like the son he never had.

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Edith and Sybil had spent the entire day unpacking, decorating, and making multiple trips to the home goods store for last minute purchases. It was 5:00 and the two sisters were sprawled out on the rug of their new living room, trying to ignore their aching muscles.

"Done. We're done," Sybil said proudly.

"I think I could sleep for six days and be totally fine with that," Edith joked. Then, turning towards her sister, she added, "As the resident chef of the Crawley family, dinner responsibilities fall on you, but I am afraid to ask, given your current state."

Sybil shot a stern look at Edith, the corners of her mouth inching up ever so slightly. "How about we both freshen up and order a pizza?"

"Have I ever told you that you're my favorite sister?" Edith teased. "That all sounds great. You come up with the best plans, you know."

A mere two hours later, both young women were bathed, combed, fed, and were currently lounging on their sofa, watching a chick flick. Their night had been rather peaceful and both wanted to turn in early for a good night's sleep.

So, naturally, when the doorbell rang, they were both taken by surprise. They did not know anyone in London except for their Aunt Rosamund, but she would never stop by without announcing herself hours prior; something about social propriety or some such nonsense.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Edith whispered to her sister.

"Of course not! But I'm curious to see who it is! Go look!" Sybil whispered back.

"Why do I always have to?" Edith mumbled as she grabbed her silky robe from the back of the sofa where she had laid it, and wrapped it tightly around herself. Slowly, she looked through the peephole. There stood a young man, with short brown hair and bright, youthful blue eyes. He looked safe enough, or so the cardigan he was wearing told Edith.

"It's a man!" Edith said quietly to Sybil, who had appeared in the hallway.

Sybil immediately rushed over to the door. "A man?" she whispered excitedly before she looked through the peephole. She immediately felt butterflies fill her body.

The doorbell rang again.

"We have to answer it! Do I look all right?"

"Yes, of course you do! Go!" Edith urged.

Sybil swiftly opened the front door and once she did, the face of the young man immediately brightened when they locked eyes. They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, smiling like fools when Edith cleared her throat.

"Oh, um, hi!" Sybil stammered. "Can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm Tom Branson, your next-door neighbor," Tom chirped.

"Sybil Crawley," she said as she offered her hand. He took it eagerly and held it a bit longer than was socially appropriate. Silence fell upon them again, entirely blissful, until Edith cleared her throat once again.

"Oh, heavens, I'm sorry. Where are my manners? This is my older sister, Edith."

Tom reluctantly pulled his hand from Sybil's to shake Edith's.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," he said finally.

"Please come in," Sybil offered keenly.

Tom stepped inside and the sisters ushered him into their living room. Once all settled, Tom noticed that the two young women were clad in pajamas and robes. "Oh, I hope I wasn't interrupting anything," he said apologetically.

"Nonsense!" Sybil exclaimed. "We could use the company. You're the only person we know in London, except for our aunt."

At the mention of an aunt, Tom remembered the reason for his visit, and one very important person who was absent. Upon ringing the doorbell, Anthony realized that he had forgotten the box of pastries back in their side of the duplex. He darted over to retrieve them, but Tom realized that he should have returned by now.

"Ah, I can't believe I forgot! I live with my uncle and he went back to bring over some housewarming treats for the two of you, but I wonder what is taking him so long. Please excuse me for a moment," Tom told them as he got up and made his way over to his place.

Once they heard the front door close, Sybil and Edith turned to each other, each with silly, girlish grins on their face. "Sybil! Not even in London a day and you already have someone who seems to be smitten by you!" Edith remarked, genuinely happy for her younger sister.

Sybil could not wipe the smile from her face. "You think so? He's awfully handsome…and that accent!"

Meanwhile, Tom was nearly inside of his and Anthony's duplex when he ran into his uncle coming out of their front door. "What's taking so long? Is everything all right?" Tom asked.

"No! I dropped the blasted box and most of the éclairs fell onto the ground, and the filling splattered everywhere. I managed to save four of them, but the other eight are in the garbage can, unfortunately."

"Rotten luck," Tom sympathized. "Well, get a move on! These girls are rather lovely, if I may say. Especially the younger sister."

"Oh, they're women?" Anthony asked nervously.

"Yes. Lovely ones."

"Well then, by all means," he replied with his characteristic lopsided grin.

When the Crawley women heard the door open once more, they sat upright and tried to have a feminine air about themselves. Tom came in first, causing Sybil's heart to flutter.

"Sybil, Edith, this is my uncle, Anthony Strallan," Tom said proudly as he gestured towards his tall, awkwardly standing uncle.

Anthony stepped into the living room, caring a pink pastry box in his hands. Sybil stood to greet him, but Edith beat her to it. She briskly stretched out her hand to this handsome blond man with piercing blue eyes.

"It's so nice to meet you, Mr. Strallan," she purred. "I'm Edith Crawley."

Anthony Strallan was certain that he had never seen a woman so enchanting in all his life. Edith was a different kind of beauty, far different from her sister, but no less alluring. Her wavy copper hair fell so wonderfully along her shoulders and her dark brown eyes glistened in the soft light of her living room. He noticed that she had a bathrobe wrapped around her body, a state of dishabille that would normally cause him to turn away, but one that he currently found highly intriguing.

Anthony grabbed her hand, bent down slightly, and placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Crawley."

Edith gasped as his lips touched her skin. No man had ever greeted her in such a way, of _that_ she was certain. Hesitantly, she pulled her hand away from Anthony's and introduced her sister, then ushered the four of them towards their sofa and chairs.

Anthony set the pink pastry box on the coffee table in front of him. "I hope you both like éclairs. There was a bit of an accident, hence my tardiness, so there are only four in there instead of a dozen. I hope that's not too bothersome."

"Not at all. It was so very kind of you to think of us," Edith told him, causing Anthony to smile widely.

The conversation carried on jovially for the next half hour, the four of them discussing their jobs, families, and the neighborhood, with each man growing more and more intrigued by the Crawley sisters. The night could have continued to progress like this without incident, that is, until Anthony caught Edith hiding a yawn.

"Well, Tom, I don't think we want to overstay our welcome. I would bet that these two charming young ladies would like to get some well-earned rest," Anthony announced.

"Right you are," Tom replied. "But it was so good to meet you both."

"Please stop by again soon," Sybil added, moving closer to Tom, looking for an excuse to shake his hand again, to feel his hand in hers.

"Perhaps we could show you both around the neighborhood tomorrow, that is, if you don't have any plans?" Anthony asked nervously.

"I could think of no better way to spend a day!" Edith said cheerily, thrilled at the prospect of seeing this handsome blond man again.

"Likewise," Sybil agreed, similarly excited to see this mysterious Irishman once more.

The four bid each other goodnight, with lingering glances abundant and flirtatious smiles plentiful.

Later that evening, Tom and Anthony were laying in their respective bedrooms, both men staring up at the ceiling, thinking that there was nothing more than a wall separating them from the place where the Crawley women now slept. For some reason, neither Anthony nor Tom slept all that well that night.

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A/N: As an Andith shipper, I hope I was able to do Sybil and Tom justice! Anyway, this will be a little story that will extend past EAST Day (probably two or three more chapters). I hope you liked it :)

Always,

NJB


	2. The Stroll

Early the next morning, Anthony and Tom picked Edith and Sybil up from their side of the duplex. Without much of a plan, the quartet was content to wander around the streets of their neighborhood, stopping at little shops and walking past parks and restaurants. They had met for brunch at Anthony's favorite café, ate their fill, and were enjoying a long stroll through a park about a mile from the duplex. Anthony and Edith lagged behind Sybil and Tom, who were many paces ahead of them, flirting shamelessly as if in their own little world.

Anthony intently watched his nephew strolling along head of him with the younger Crawley sister. It was a sight to see, Anthony mused. The young Sybil Crawley was certainly interested in his nephew, Tom; that much was clear. Her lingering glances and excessive laughter did not go unnoticed by Anthony. But it also seemed like she was doing everything in her power not to make her interest all that evident.

She is a wise, young woman, he thought. Best to make Tom work for it.

Anthony, on the other hand, was trying just as hard to conceal his true feelings, but for altogether different reasons. He and Edith were hitting it off splendidly; they had no shortage of conversation topics or witty remarks. She even seemed to be genuinely interested in what he had to say, even about his agriculture books, which was nothing short of miraculous. And Anthony was completely enamoured with everything about the woman walking beside him, from her doe eyes, to her humor, all the way down to that old-fashioned way about her.

But what he couldn't understand was why such a Venus would ever give an old codger like him the time of day, let alone be interested in him. He was fooling himself, he thought. Edith was just being friendly, nothing more. Just a friendly new neighbor. As such, Anthony decided that Edith must never know that he had developed somewhat of a keen interest in her; it would be too embarrassing if she found out, especially since she lived just next door.

"Your nephew seems to have taken a liking to my younger sister, if I may be so bold," Edith told Anthony, almost as if she caught him staring at his nephew and her sister.

Anthony looked at his nephew, who had just slipped his hand into the hand of an unsuspecting Sybil Crawley. Tom made this all look too easy.

"Yes, I do believe you're right, Edith," Anthony finally said. Then more nervously, he pried, "There must be someone special you have your eye on, too?"

He immediately regretted asking her such a private question, even more so when he swore he saw a hint of a smirk on her face. Sneering at my foolishness, no doubt, he thought.

"No, nothing official yet, but who knows? It's all very new," Edith admitted, the smirk growing on her face.

There it is, Anthony thought. Of course she is interested in someone. Probably someone young, fit, and handsome like Tom. Certainly not someone in his mid-forties, who owned far too many sweaters, who was terribly stuck in his ways, and whose idea of a good time consisted of staying at home with takeaway and watching black-and-white movies or reading. Certainly not someone like him.

"And you? Surely a kind, handsome gentleman such as yourself has a…lady friend…" she inquired hesitantly.

Anthony was thoroughly confused. Did he detect a bit of reluctance when she said "lady friend?" No, of course not, you old codger, he told himself. She is just being cordial.

"Erm, no, not any longer. I was married once, but she…Maud… passed away five years ago. Now it's just me. Just me and Tom."

"I'm terribly sorry," Edith whispered apologetically. After a long moment, she added, "What was she like?"

"Maud? Oh, she was awfully funny. Some people couldn't see it, but she was," Anthony sighed.

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Sybil was relishing in the entirety of this outing with Tom, from the casualness of their pace to the cardigan he placed over her shoulders when she mentioned she was chilly. She didn't normally meet men like him, so interesting and charming. Instead, all of her past boyfriends had been Eton boys with trust funds who pompous beyond measure. But Tom, sweet, Irish Tom, was so unlike them and was all the better for it. So when he unexpectedly slipped his hand into hers as they approached a farmer's market, Sybil could have sworn her heart stopped momentarily.

She looked down at their hands, fingers laced together, and back up at the man they belonged to, and matched his grin. Sheepishly, they continued towards the market in silence.

Somewhere near a tomato stand, Tom broke the silence between them. "I hope I'm not moving too fast, Sybil. I mean, we only just met yesterday…"

Sybil chuckled heartily. "Tom? You're only holding my hand. That's innocent enough, even with two chaperones behind us."

Tom had entirely forgotten that Anthony and Edith were with them, as his mind had been consumed with thoughts of what to say to Sybil instead. He turned around and saw his uncle and new neighbor approaching the tomato stand, both grinning knowingly.

"Hello, you two. Things seem to be going…well," Edith teased, looking down at Sybil and Tom's intertwined hands.

"Very well, Edith, obviously so," Anthony added mischievously, catching Edith's glance.

Blushing slightly, Sybil said, "It has been a very nice day so far. Perhaps we could pick up some groceries here and cook a nice dinner later on?"

"Oh, Anthony and Tom, you absolutely must say 'yes!' Sybil is the best cook I know…she took lessons from our old cook back at home when she was younger," Edith explained excitedly.

The two men exchanged approving glances.

"I think that would be lovely," Anthony said gladly.

"As would I!" Tom agreed.

"Then it's settled," Sybil confirmed. "How about Tom and I pick out some veggies and the like, and we'll meet you at my place around 7:00? I'm dying to break in our new kitchen!"

Thrilled at the prospect of spending a little more time with Anthony, Edith answered for both of them, "Sounds marvelous, Sybil. We'll see you then!"

Placing her hand on Anthony's arm, Edith guided him away from the tomato stand. Anthony raised his eyebrows curiously at her touch, suddenly finding himself rather warm.

"Don't mind spending a little more time with an old codger, do you?" he asked her as they meandered away from the farmers market.

"I don't know about any codgers, but I have rather enjoyed our conversatios today," Edith admitted, a hint of a blush gracing her cheeks.

"You're very kind, Edith," Anthony mumbled. "Well, we have about five hours to kill. Is there anything you're dying to do in London?"

"Oh, I could think of a few things," Edith said somewhat mischievously.

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Sybil and Tom walked the two miles from the farmers market back to the duplex, each carrying two large bags of fresh produce in their arms, and each giggling like schoolchildren.

They reached the front step and after a clumsy juggling act of trying to balance the bags while looking for her keys, the pair was inside, truly alone for the first time.

Tom approached the kitchen counter and asked, "Is it all right if I set these bags here?"

"By all means. So, Tom do you cook? Or would you like a demonstration?" Sybil inquired coyly.

"Do I cook?" he playfully scoffed as he unpacked the bags. "Sybil, if I didn't cook, Uncle Anthony would literally subsist on takeaway alone. The man already eats too much of it for any one person!"

"Oh, my gosh! Edith is the same way! I honestly don't know how she isn't malnourished at this point. I think she would be if I didn't prepare vegetables for her once in a while."

Tom chuckled. "Well then, it's a good thing they have us!"

Smiling, Sybil asked, "Shall we get started?"

"Absolutely!"

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Anthony Strallan found himself utterly surprised to be back at his duplex, with Edith in tow. When he asked her if there was anything she was dying to do in London, he didn't expect that she would ask to take a tour of his side of the duplex.

"It's only fair," she had told him. "Sybil and I gave you a tour of our side this morning."

Willingly he obliged. After showing her the downstairs, small garden, and upstairs (with a nervous passing-over of his own bedroom), Edith and Anthony were now nestled comfortably inside of his library, which doubled as an office. In the center of the book-filled room was a cozy fireplace, and directly in front of it was the most agreeable sofa Edith had ever sat on. It was there that the pair was now settled, each of them seemingly engrossed in a book.

It had been almost thirty minutes since either had spoken, but Edith happily noticed that they were sitting closer on the sofa than was necessary, given the large size of it. She longed to move in a little closer, but didn't want to risk it.

Meanwhile, Anthony was having the hardest time concentrating on his book, having to reread the same pages over and over again. He couldn't focus with Edith sitting next to him, not when he could smell traces of her perfume, or hear her breathe slowly, or feel her shift her weight on the sofa. He hoped that sitting here reading wasn't too boring or tedious, not for an energetic, young woman like Edith Crawley.

"I hope that this all isn't too dull for you, sitting here reading like this when the whole city of London awaits," Anthony apologized.

"Anthony, this is literally my ideal way to spend time. I didn't study literature for nothing! Besides, there is something nice about retreating to the solace of a library like yours and jumping into a book, don't you think?"

He thought about the truth in her words. "Yes…yes, it is nice."

And so Edith and Anthony spent the next several hours silently enjoying one another's company, with a book to distract them from their feelings. It wasn't until Anthony's phone buzzed at quarter past seven did he realize that he and Edith had fallen asleep together.

Anthony looked at the caller ID; it was Tom. He ignored the call, knowing that it would only take him a few minutes to hop on over to the other side of the duplex. So, he turned his attention to the young woman whose head now rested on his left arm.

Edith's hair was somewhat tousled and her mouth was slightly open, but Anthony thought she looked utterly beautiful. Setting his book aside, he grabbed her left hand with his right and slowly began to rub the back of her palm, hoping to gently rouse her from her slumber.

She started to mumble, but was still clearly asleep. So, Anthony softly whispered her name. Still, that did not wake her. Just as he was about to say her name a little louder, Edith's hand migrated around his and laced its fingers through his own. Anthony stared down at their enjoined hands and gave in, tightening his grip on hers.

He held her hand there for what felt like a blissful eternity. When he noticed Edith's eyes begin to flutter open, he quickly withdrew his hand and stood.

"Oh, did I fall asleep?" Edith murmured.

"Yes, we both did if you can believe it. But, um, Tom just called, so we should probably head next door for dinner. It's nearly half past seven!"

Edith jumped up and ran a hand through her hair. After grabbing her jacket and purse, she and Anthony left to head over.

Just as Anthony was locking the front door, Edith told him, "Oh, you know I was having the most wonderful dream just before I woke up. I can't even remember what it was about, but it felt sublime. Do you ever have dreams like that where you can't remember the content, only the feeling?"

Anthony looked at this young woman, who had just dropped into his life, who was already causing him a great deal of excitement, and earnestly said, "I know precisely what you mean."

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A/N: Thanks to all for the comments, follows, and favorites! I hope this chapter was pleasing to both S/T and E/A shippers. This chapter was clearly focused more on Andith (guilty as charged!), but the next chapter will be more centered around Sybil and Tom, and then there will be a conclusion of sorts.

Thanks again for reading :)

NJB


	3. The Confession

The entire duplex was filled with the smell of Sybil and Tom's delicious cooking. The lamb was roasting in the oven and they were currently focusing on the vegetables they purchased at the farmers market. And as the duplex was filled with succulent aromas, so, too, was the kitchen filled with the sounds of laughter and flirting.

"Who taught you how to peel a potato like that?" Tom teased Sybil.

"Only Mrs. Patmore, the greatest cook ever to grace the face of the earth!" Sybil retorted with a smile on her face.

"Oi! Let me show you how an Irishman peels a potato!" Tom exclaimed as he gently attempted to pry the peeler from Sybil's hands. As his hands touched hers, Tom was certain that there was something about this woman that made her unlike any woman he had ever met, something magical about her.

In a moment of boldness, Tom Branson dropped the peeler and the potato into the sink. Then, he slowly moved his hands towards Sybil's face, cupping it affectionately. For a long moment, they simply stared at each other.

When a small grin grew on Sybil's face, Tom felt the extra confidence he needed grow, as well. Slowly, he leaned forward, moving them against the sink, and carefully placed his lips on Sybil's. Her lips were soft and warm, and the kiss was altogether very innocent.

But when Sybil's arms snaked around Tom's neck, the kiss deepened, his tongue seeking access into her mouth and being granted entry. His hands left her face and ran alongside her waist, eventually settling on the small of her back, bringing her body closer to his. Sybil moaned delightfully, as did he.

Things could have continued like this far longer than they did, but it all abruptly halted when the timer for the roasted lamb went off. Amidst the beeping, Tom pulled away and rested his forehead on Sybil's.

"I thought so," Tom murmured sweetly.

"Thought what?" Sybil inquired, her tone nervous.

"That kissing you would be just…wonderful," he admitted.

"You're quite the charmer, aren't you," Sybil quipped as she pulled away from his embrace to tend to the lamb.

With a cheeky grin on his face, Tom replied, "I am, rather!"

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Not even an hour later, Edith and Anthony found themselves seated across the table from Sybil and Tom, enjoying a tasty dinner, totally unaware of what went on in the kitchen while it was being prepared.

"This is all very delicious, Sybil," Anthony said between bites and sips of wine. "If you weren't so committed to nursing, I'd say you could open up a brilliant restaurant that would be the envy of most chefs in London!"

"Thank you, Anthony, that's really very sweet," Sybil said warmly. Then under her breath, she whispered to Tom, "Charm seems to run in the family, doesn't it?"

Tom smiled slyly and discreetly reached underneath the table and grabbed her hand.

"But you know, Anthony, I didn't do it all by myself. Your nephew was a _great_ help in the kitchen!"

Edith saw the knowing smirk that passed between her sister and the Irishman. Something tells me that cooking wasn't all they were doing this afternoon, Edith thought to herself, trying to suppress a pang of jealousy bubbling inside of her.

Dinner progressed rather well, the conversation never lagging once. Anthony and Edith insisted on doing the dishes, both agreeing that it was the least they could do after Sybil and Tom prepared such a succulent meal. Sybil and Tom settled in the living room, trying to decide on a movie to watch, while Edith and Anthony carried the dishes from the dining room. In the kitchen with their sleeves rolled up and towels adorning their shoulders, Edith and Anthony organically got to talking about the apparent relationship that had developed between his nephew and her sister.

"Was it just me, or did Sybil and Tom seem particularly chummy at dinner this evening? And earlier today for that matter," Anthony asked Edith, reaching for another dirty plate.

"Oh, they were more than chummy, Anthony," Edith quipped.

Lowering his tone and leaning in closer to Edith, so much so that she could smell the soap that lingered on his skin, Anthony asked, "Do you think there is something more serious going on between them?"

Edith opened her mouth to respond, but closed it. She knew the answer to that question already, and she was happy that it was a definite and resounding 'yes.' But something inside her was somehow a little saddened by this information. Not that Edith was the jealous sort, but Sybil had always had more luck where it concerned men.

"Yes, Anthony, I think there is," she said, looking into his eyes somewhat pleadingly.

Noticing the subtle downcast tone to her voice, Anthony said, "How about you come over to my side once we're through with this, hmm? We'll have some ice cream or whatever else you'd like." He so hoped she would agree; he would do anything he could to see her smile.

Edith immediately grinned from ear to ear. "I would like that very much!" she said, hoping not to sound too enthusiastic. Perhaps her luck was changing…

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Nearly a month later, the two sets of neighbors had developed quite the little routine with each other. Most days, they would all breakfast together, usually at Anthony and Tom's, seeing as how Tom made the best quiche, while dinner was usually a more private affair. Sybil and Tom nearly always had dinner alone together at her side of the duplex, while Edith and Anthony often dined together at his.

After a month, Sybil and Tom, not surprisingly, were exclusively dating and quite inseparable at that. Anthony and Edith, on the other hand, had developed a very strong friendship in the past month, both unwilling to admit their true feelings to the other. Anthony told himself that it was best, no matter how much he was falling in love with the young Crawley woman, that they remained friends. She was far too young and lovely to get romantically involved with an old codger like him.

But each time they ate dinner together, or worked in his garden afterwards, or simply read in his library together, he found that his resolve was weakening and it was getting harder and harder to keep her at a distance.

You must stay strong, he would tell himself when he inhaled a whiff of her perfume or when she would look at him adoringly, for her sake.

One night, a rare night in which both Anthony and Tom were busy, Sybil and Edith went out to a restaurant not far from their home. Sybil had noticed that something had been troubling her older sister lately, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it. When the waiter arrived at their table, nestled in the back of the quaint restaurant, Sybil took the liberty of ordering an entire bottle of Riesling. She knew that if she was going to get Edith to spill, it would take white wine and lots of it.

"Sybil!" Edith admonished playfully as the waiter walked away. "Tomorrow is a workday! I can't be hungover for work!"

"Just drink plenty of water before you go to bed," Sybil teased dryly. "We need to have a little fun once in a while and it's already been ordered, so we have to drink it. I mean, I'm not going to drink it all by myself. You wouldn't make your baby sister do that, would you?"

Edith feigned defeat. "Oh, I suppose not. But no more than two glasses!"

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Five glasses later, Edith Crawley was thoroughly drunk. They had foregone dinner, instead nibbling on bread and butter that the waiter had brought by. Edith was a fit of giggles, as she usually was when she drank, and ready to spill her darkest secrets to anyone who asked.

Sipping on her single glass of wine, Sybil slowly eased into her interrogation. "So, how are things? I feel I've hardly seen you, what with spending so much time with Tom…"

"Oh, Tom," Edith slurred. "That man! You are lucky to nab that one…Sybbie, you are so lucky…"

"What? What do you mean?"

"You…have with Tom what I want with…with…" Edith began, but even her inebriated state, she couldn't admit it out loud.

In an instant, Sybil knew what was troubling her sister and felt entirely foolish that she hadn't seen it before. Young love often makes one blind, even to the most obvious things.

"With whom, Edie?" she pressed, trying to get her sister to admit what she already knew.

Edith took a long drink from her wine glass. Then, hunching down, she timidly whispered, "With…Anthony."

"I thought so," Sybil declared.

Edith hiccupped. "You don't think he's…too old, do you?"

"Of course not, Edith! You've always been an old soul. And besides, I've never seen two people with more in common than you and Anthony!"

"Thank heavens," Edith sighed. Then, somberly, she added, "But, there is one problem."

"What could that be?"

"Un-…unrequited love," she mumbled. "He…doesn't feel the same, I just know it."

"Not true!" Sybil exclaimed. "Edith, that man looks at you like you could walk on water. It's in his eyes. And he is always inviting you out to spend time with him, always asking you what you'd like to do together."

"He's just lonely and incredibly friendly…and handsome, and sexy, and sweet, and kind, and handsome."

Sybil chuckled. "That he is. But Edith, I don't think he is just lonely, I think there might be something more. If it helps, I'll ask Tom if he can get it out of him."

"Would you? Oh, that would be great!"

"Of course! We'll get to the bottom of this. Don't worry, Edith. Tom's a brilliant journalist; if there is something there, he'll get it out of Anthony, mark my words!"

"Oh, Sybil, thank you!" Edith cheered, hopeful that Anthony felt for her what she felt for him. "Now, I think you better get me home soon…I'm not sure how much longer I can hold myself up."

"Good idea, Edie," Sybil laughed, as she moved to help her older sister from the chair.

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A/N: A very hearty "Thank you!" to all of you for reading this silly story of mine! I hope to wrap it up with one more chapter (preferably by Saturday). Thanks again and as always, Long Live EAST!

NJB


	4. The Confession Pt II

The next morning, Sybil went over to Anthony and Tom's side of the duplex alone, while Edith scrambled to get ready. She had missed both alarms that Sybil had set for her the night before in her rather inebriated state and was on track to be late for work unless she skipped her usual breakfast at Anthony's side.

Meanwhile, as Edith was running around their duplex in a frazzled, rushed manner, Sybil sat across the table from Anthony, watching him intently as Tom finished the pancakes he was making.

Anthony was engrossed in the newspaper and sipped his tea without pealing his eyes from the page. He really is very handsome, Sybil thought. I can see why Edith is so enamoured by him, especially with eyes like those! And now that she was aware of Edith's feelings towards him, Sybil saw Anthony in an entirely new light.

After finishing the article, Anthony took a long gulp of tea and looked up, catching Sybil's eye.

"So, are you certain that there is no chance that Edith is coming over for breakfast this morning? I sure hope she pops by," Anthony said, his voice inflecting in the most hopeful way.

Tom and Sybil exchanged glances. She had informed him of what Edith said to her the night before, and asked him to get any information out of Anthony that he could. Tom was thrilled at this bit of news, hopeful that his uncle would finally find happiness.

"Um, no, unfortunately Edith is a little hungover this morning and overslept," Sybil informed him.

"Hungover?" Anthony chuckled with raised eyebrows. "And why aren't you in the trenches with your sister?"

"Because Edith finished off nearly an entire bottle of Riesling by herself!"

"Riesling, eh? That's my girl," Anthony stated proudly. Sybil and Tom looked to him, then to each other, grins forming on their faces, and Anthony immediately cleared his throat once he realized that he had said too much.

This is going to be easier than I thought, Tom thought wryly as he placed some pancakes on Sybil and Anthony's plates. Sybil grabbed hers, rolled it up like a cigar, and took a long drink of orange juice.

"I'm taking mine to-go today, boys. Lots to do at the hospital," she announced. Then, as she went up to kiss Tom on the cheek, she whispered into his ear, "Try to go easy on him, love?" 

Tom chuckled softly. "I'll try," his whispered back as he stole a kiss from her lips. With a final smile, Sybil was out the door, leaving Tom to interrogate his uncle by himself.

Tom sat down, dug into a stack of pancakes, and truthfully, was feeling a tad nervous. He and his uncle had a great relationship, but neither really spoke about their romantic lives with each other. Tom decided that his best plan of attack would be to ease into it and never let Anthony know what hit him.

"Real shame Edith couldn't join us this morning," Tom said in the most nonchalant way possible. "Didn't feel right, did it?" 

Anthony coughed a bit. "Quite right, Tom. It didn't feel the same. I do hope she feels better soon."

Progress, Tom thought to himself, but nothing groundbreaking. He pressed on.

"So do I. Because such a lovely girl shouldn't feel so sick after a night of a little fun, hmm?"

Anthony looked up from his pancakes, eyeing Tom curiously. "Quite right. Edith is far too lovely for something like that to happen to her." Anthony was beginning to feel uneasy at their discussion of Edith; he didn't want to reveal too much. He couldn't.

There was a long, awkward pause that made both men uncomfortable. Anthony's eyes darted from Tom's and focused on pouring himself another cup of tea, which he promptly began to drink after adding some milk.

Finally, Tom boldly cried, "I wish you would just come out and say it!"

Anthony felt hot, like his skin was boiling. Try to be nonchalant, he told himself. Feign ignorance!

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently, taking another sip of tea.

"That you're in love with Edith!" Tom exclaimed.

Anthony choked on his tea and nearly dropped the cup. After a brief coughing fit, he finally whispered softly, "Is it that obvious?"

"Of course it is," Tom replied warmly. "Uncle Anthony, strangers on the street could see it; it's as plain as day. And it wouldn't be just you they would see enamoured. They'd see Edith was that way, too. Edith loves you!"

Anthony stood up from his seat and briskly walked towards the kitchen island. "You're wrong!"

"Certainly not about you?"

Anthony looked up at his nephew timidly. "No, not about me," he admitted. "I have fallen for her in these past few weeks. She is so wonderful, Tom. I don't know how anyone hasn't seen it before, how someone hasn't snatched her up yet."

"She is something. Must be something about those Crawley women!" Tom joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Anthony chuckled sadly. "But you're wrong about Edith. She doesn't love me, she can't," he told Tom.

"And why the bloody hell not?" Tom demanded.

"Because…she is…and I am so…it's just not possible, you see. Edith is young and wonderful and beautiful. There is no shot in hell that she would _ever_…return my feelings."

"Uncle Anthony, you are a very smart man, but you're wrong about this."

"I assure you, I am not."

"But you are! What if I told you that last night, Edith told Sybil that she wants what Sybil and I have…but with you?"

Anthony's mouth dropped. He could not believe the words coming out of his nephew's mouth. "That's…not possible," Anthony murmured disbelievingly, shaking his head.

"Yes, it is. Don't you see? You and Edith are perfect for each other and now, you know that she feels the same. Now what are you going to do about it?" the Irishman probed encouragingly.

"I…I don't know. What do you think I should do? I'm terribly out of practice, you know."

"Well, if you're looking for someone to give you a step-by-step procedure, you're not going to get it from me!" Tom joked, taking some pleasure in his uncle's apparent shock.

"No, no of course not," Anthony mumbled. "If you don't mind my asking, what did you do to win Sybil over?"

Tom smiled, thinking back on those first few days with Sybil. "I won her over with my charming Irish accent and radical political beliefs! But, you unfortunately lack both of those things, so I'm not sure what you could do," he teased.

Anthony laughed heartily, some of the color returning to his face.

"But really, I pushed her against a sink and kissed her…hard," Tom confessed proudly. "That seemed to do the trick!"

Any color that had returned to Anthony's face quickly drained once again and he cleared his throat nervously. Who knew his nephew was such a stud?

Laughing, Tom said, "Listen, Uncle Anthony, you know Edith better than I do, so just be yourself and tell her in a way that you think she might enjoy. Hell, right it down in a book for all I care! But please promise me that you'll tell her…and soon. You both deserve a little happiness, God only knows!"

Anthony smiled and grabbed his nephew's hand to shake it. "Thank you, Tom. I really don't know what I would do without you, you know."

With a grateful smile, Tom returned the handshake and pulled his uncle into a hug.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Tom! How are you?" Sybil greeted her boyfriend on the phone. She was still at the hospital, but had managed to sneak down a deserted hallway when she saw Tom's call. "How did things go with Anthony?"

"Mmm, I don't know…perhaps one could say it went perfectly?" Tom exclaimed. "Uncle Anthony told me that he has fallen in love with Edith! I told him what you told me last night and I practically made him swear to me that he would tell her tonight."

"Oh, yes! This is fantastic news!" Sybil cheered.

"It is! I am very happy for both of them."

"And you, mister! Your journalistic detective skills must have been in fine form today. I think someone needs a reward for all of that hard work, don't you think?" Sybil teased.

"I wouldn't be objectionable to that," Tom retorted slyly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Later that evening, Sybil sat on Edith's bed, helping her pick out a sexy frock to wear over to Anthony's. The man in question had called Edith earlier and invited her over for a special dinner. Dining together was not out of the norm for either of them; they did it nearly every night. But he had said tonight's meal would be "special" and Tom confirmed that Anthony was preparing something very special, indeed, though he would not specify exactly what that entailed.

"How about this one?" Edith asked her sister, holding yet another dress up to her body.

"Too many flowers, not enough allure," Sybil said dryly.

Edith tossed the dress onto the bed next to Sybil. "Ugh, I have nothing to wear! I might have to walk over there in just my knickers!"

"I'm sure Anthony wouldn't mind," Sybil teased, causing Edith to blush.

"What about this black one?"

Sybil eyed the dress. It was as stunning as the woman to whom it belonged. It skimmed her collarbone, hugged at the waist, and ended just above the knee. "That's the one, Edie. Anthony will love it!"

"You think so?"

"Of course! Now, hurry up. You don't want to be late!" Sybil warned her as she left the room to go downstairs, where Tom was waiting patiently.

As the imminence of the night's events dawned on her, Edith's blushed deepened to an even darker shade of red. She wasn't nervous, not after Sybil had reported Tom's findings back to her. When she learned that Anthony felt for her what she felt for him, Edith was certain that her heart stopped out of pure joy. Now, all she felt was giddy excitement.

Edith sat down at her vanity, applying some perfume and putting her earrings in, taking extra care that everything was in its proper place. All of a sudden, she realized that Anthony did not know that she knew his true feelings. Edith had a bit of an advantage, one she decided that she would try to play to both of their benefit.

This is going to be an interesting night, Edith thought to herself slyly. An interesting night indeed.

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A/N: Thanks for all of the comments and continued readership! I'm so glad that you all seem to be enjoying this story. I decided to take Skye's advice and add one more chapter after this one. Edith and Anthony, slow-moving as they are, even in canon, seem to need more than one chapter to get to first base, even! The next chapter will certainly be the conclusion.

Again, thank you and as always, long live EAST!

NJB


	5. The End

A/N: Thank you all for the great support of this little story of mine! Writing for the EAST Alliance has been a blast (as has reading all of the lovely stories everyone wrote). Here is the final installment; it's a little more 'T' than previous chapters. I hope you like it…it's fluffy as hell!

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"No, no! Add the oil first!" Tom calmly told Anthony, who was standing over the stove with a very confused look on his face. He had asked Tom to help him prepare the meal that he and Edith would share later that night, but since Tom usually prepared dinner, or they ordered takeaway, Anthony was quite ill equipped in the kitchen.

"Oh, right. Sorry," Anthony apologized with a lopsided grin. "I sure hope that Edith will enjoy this. Lord knows how seldom I cook."

Tom started to smell something burning. "Well, at least she'll appreciate the sentiment," he kidded as he grabbed the sauté pan from his uncle and moved it off the burner.

"Maybe we'll have to get takeaway after all," Anthony said rather dejectedly.

"Nonsense!" Tom reassured him. "I'll just grab another pan."

Grateful that his nephew was around to help him with such things, among others, Anthony said, "Thank you again, Tom. For everything. I don't think I'd be here if you hadn't helped me to realize the obvious."

"Please, Uncle Anthony, it's the least I could do. Besides, everyone needs a little love in their life, you know."

"Speaking of a little love, what do you and yours have planned for the evening?" Anthony asked as he grabbed the pan and placed it back on the burner.

Tom looked down at his feet and grinned. Then, looking back at his uncle, he said, "Well, we're giving you and Edith some space, if you know what I mean. And, to be honest, I have a little something planned for Sybil later on in the evening, as well. There's something important I'd like to ask her."

Anthony's blue eyes widened. "You mean…do you mean what I think you mean?"

Tom chuckled. "Yep, that's the plan!"

Anthony patted Tom on the back. "Good on you! How exciting!"

Just as Tom was about to pull his uncle into a hug, the chicken cooking on the stove burst into a small, but contained fire. 

"Takeaway seems pretty attractive right now, doesn't it?" Anthony shouted as Tom swatted at the fire with a wet dishtowel.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A few hours later, Anthony walked over to Edith's side of the duplex and rang the doorbell. He stood, waiting somewhat impatiently, trying not to appear too nervous. He hoped he hadn't overdressed for the occasion; now that he thought on it, perhaps a tie and jacket were a bit too much. Just as he was about to loosen his tie and remove it, Edith opened the door.

Anthony's face immediately brightened when his eyes met Edith's. She looked simply stunning, but in an effortless sort of way. Her hair fell in loose curls around her shoulders and the black dress she wore hugged her in all of the right places. The marigold pashmina that was draped through her elbows, behind her back, added to the feminine air about her.

Anthony stood there staring with his mouth open slightly. You're gaping, you old fool, he thought to himself.

"You're awfully quiet tonight, aren't you?" Edith asked in a teasing manner.

Finally brought back to his senses, Anthony cleared his throat and stammered, "Oh, um, yes sorry. You just look…gorgeous, is all."

"Flatterer," she quipped, blushing slightly.

"Certainly not!" he retorted. "Anyway, I hope you're peckish. With Tom's help, I prepared a meal for us this evening."

"You…cooked?"

"Surprised, are you?" he asked as he escorted Edith over to his side with a gentle hand on the small of her back. "Well, you should be! I nearly burned the duplex down twice!"

"Now, _that_ doesn't surprise me," Edith replied slyly, her mind delighting at the simple intimacy of his hand's location.

Once the pair made their way to Anthony's side, Edith was quite pleased with what greeted her. Their usual dinners together consisted of the two of them lounging on Anthony's sofa, watching a movie or reading, while they both picked at each other's takeaway cartons. Flirting, even if only in a veiled way, was always abundant and Edith always went back to her side with a bittersweet smile on her face. Happy that such a man was in her life in any capacity, but a little forlorn that he didn't fill the capacity she wanted him to.

But tonight, Edith was sure a bittersweet smile wouldn't cross her face. No, she already knew that tonight was going to be magical, thanks to the tall blond man standing awkwardly next to her in the entryway.

"I just thought…well, I just thought that sometimes, a lady deserves something special, something other than takeaway and whatever movie is on the telly," Anthony explained warmly. There certainly was something wonderfully special about the evening so far, from the tall candles on the kitchen table, to the suit that Anthony wore; it was all very out of the ordinary and all very welcomed by Edith.

"I don't think takeaway and movies are all that bad," Edith admitted as she set her pashmina on the couch. "I quite enjoy lounging around…especially with you. But, I must say, this is all very nice, very…romantic, even." Edith knew she was being daring with her words, but felt entirely comfortable knowing what she knew about Anthony's feelings.

Unsure of what to say, Anthony simply smiled and ushered Edith towards the kitchen. After he pulled the chair out for her, Anthony put the finishing touches on the dinner, as per Tom's exceedingly specific instructions, and brought the plates over to the table.

Well, here goes nothing chap, Anthony thought. No turning back now!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I can't help but wonder how Edith and Anthony are faring tonight," Sybil told Tom as they sat in the back of a taxi. "I'm concerned that she'll back out at the last minute and not tell him how she really feels."

"Believe me, Syb, I'm just as concerned. I could easily see Uncle Anthony losing his nerve and sending poor Edith back to your side without so much as a goodnight kiss."

"Well, we'll just have to wait and see. Don't they say patience is a virtue?"

"Yeah, well 'they' don't know what they're talking about," Tom teased.

"Anyway, are you going to tell me where we're going tonight?"

"You'll have wait and see. Patience is a virtue, love."

At that, Sybil poked and tickled the Irishman in the back of the taxi until he wrapped an arm around her, pulled her in tightly, and lightly skimmed his lips against hers. Sybil grabbed onto the lapels of his jacket for support as she returned his kiss. Tom kissed her as if they had known each other a lifetime, as though they were not learning about one another, but getting reacquainted.

This is all so surreal, Sybil thought as Tom's hands ran along her hips. This man is unlike any I've ever known; he is so gentle and yet, so passionate.

Not long after, the couple felt the taxi come to a halt and after a curt clearing of the throat from the cabbie, they parted and Tom paid the man.

"Here we are. And just in time, too; our reservation is in five minutes!"

"Tom, do you realize where we are?" Sybil said in utter shock.

Tom chuckled. "Of course I do, love. I should know…I made the reservation!"

"But…how…at…Balthazar?" Sybil stammered.

Tom calmingly stroked Sybil's cheek with his thumb. "Darling, every time we walk past this place, you always mention not-so-casually that you've always wanted to go here, that they have the best food, that no restaurant can compare. Well, I know pulled a few strings and got us in!"

"I…don't understand…"

"Sybil," Tom laughed heartily, "what's to understand? It's a restaurant, they have food, and we pay to eat it! Now come on! We don't want them to give our table up."

Sybil finally conceded and grabbed Tom's offered arm. "But it's so hard to get a reservation here. How did you manage?"

"Well, it helps to have a press badge, love. If anyone asks tonight, I'm a food critic," Tom whispered mischievously into her ear.

Sybil grinned widely and tightened her grip on the Irishman's arm.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Meanwhile, back at the duplex, Anthony and Edith were sitting on the couch in his library sipping on what was left of the dessert wine. Anthony did not know his way around a kitchen whatsoever, but the man certainly did know his way around a wine cellar.

"So, what did you think of the dinner…honestly?" Anthony inquired.

Edith smirked; it was precious to see him so nervous. "It was rather tasty, if I may say. Tom had better watch out!"

"Now who's the flatterer?" Anthony teased. It was so easy to get along with Edith, effortlessly so.

"I'm appalled, sir!" Edith jested as she placed her hand on his arm. She knew he would be nervous tonight and was having a bit of fun seeing him so flustered.

Anthony grinned lopsidedly and looked down at her hand on his arm; his heart rate quickened. "Edith, I'm so glad you accepted my invitation this evening. I had a marvelous time with you."

"As did I," Edith replied as she began to rub his arm. "It's not every night that I get treated to a candlelit dinner with a gentleman."

"Well, I'm glad I could play the part," Anthony said. Then, he blurted, "But I must confess I invited you here for ulterior motives." Daft fool, he admonished himself. Very smooth.

"Oh?" Edith said with fake surprise, her eyebrows raised for effect. "And what might those be?"

"That, er, that I…" Anthony stammered as he fidgeted on the couch. Just say it, he thought to himself. "Well, you see, I wanted to tell you that…over these past weeks, while I have enjoyed our growing friendship, that I…well, um, that I wanted…more."

That "more" seemed to hang in the air, as blue eyes locked with brown.

"More?" Edith inquired with smirk growing on her face. She was unable to feign ignorance any longer.

"Yes, um, what I mean to say, what I'm saying rather ineloquently actually, is that…well, Edith Crawley, I have fallen in love with you."

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"Oh, my gosh! This is absolutely divine!" Sybil exclaimed after setting her fork down. "Mrs. Patmore used to make profiteroles for our birthdays when my sisters and I were little, but they were never as good as these!"

"I won't tell her, in case you're wondering," Tom joked. In reality, he was glad that Sybil was enjoying it so much. He loved seeing her happy.

After finishing the pastries off, Sybil dabbed her mouth with her napkin, and leaned forward over the table. "Will you tell me the real reason we're here?" she asked encouragingly.

Tom leaned in forward as well. "Can you keep a secret?" he asked coyly.

Sybil nodded her head and grinned.

"Good. So can I!" he replied as he sank back in his chair. "You'll find out in due time, dear. Like you said, patience is a virtue."

"I thought 'they' said that," she quipped.

"So they did," he retorted.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Edith's smile could not be contained. She had heard from Sybil by way of Tom that Anthony loved her, but to hear it out of his own mouth, with his own awkward, fumbled words was of no compare.

Upon seeing Edith's wide grin, Anthony said more confidently, "I love you, Edith. I'm in love with your smile, and your big brown eyes, with your witty remarks, and your love of books that so matches mine. I love being around you, hearing what you have to say about whatever odds and ends we find ourselves discussing. I love how you always tuck those strands of hair behind your ear when you read or how you bite your lip when thinking deeply about something. I am just…utterly in love with you."

Edith grabbed his hands into hers and pressed her lips upon them. "I am in love with you, too. I love your wispy hair that always seems untamed, and your piercing blue eyes. I love your shy laugh and that lopsided grin. I love that, with the exception of tonight, you can't cook and that you are most yourself with a book in one hand and a box of takeaway in the other. I love how you listen to me, I mean _really_ listen, and that you aren't afraid to disagree with me sometimes. I love how at night, when there is only the wall of the duplex separating us, that I feel safe knowing that you're near. I am utterly in love with you, too, Anthony."

It was at this point that they had said all they could say, told each other all they need to tell, and let other methods of expression take over. Anthony leaned in close to Edith, placing his hands on her face.

"May I?" he whispered. Edith smiled and nodded. Within a moment, his lips brushed hers, his hands playing with her hair. Edith, in turn, migrated her hands around Anthony's back, pulling his body closer to hers, pulling them both back onto the couch. Their breaths became labored and their chests rose and fell together.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sybil and Tom found themselves strolling along the Thames after a fantastic dinner together. Sybil kept raving about how delicious it all was, while Tom merely chuckled at her enthusiasm.

"I love this city at night," Sybil sighed dreamily as Tom slipped his hand into hers. "It's quite romantic, don't you think?"

"It is right now when I'm here with you," he told her.

This was it. This was the moment the entire night had precluded. It was upon them.

"You know, Sybil," Tom began. "Do you remember that thing you said the other day, you said it about Uncle Anthony and Edith? You said that when two people know, they just know. Like, once two people realize that they're in love, it doesn't matter how long they've known each other, whether it's six days or six years. Well, I got to thinking about that, and I think you're right, but I don't think it's just applicable to my uncle and your sister."

"You don't?"

"No, I think it is quite applicable to us, don't you?"

"Well…yes, of course. What do you mean?"

Tom stopped their stroll and really looked at Sybil, grabbing both of her hands with his. "What I mean is that I really love you Sybil. You are a wonderful person, so bubbly and kind, and smart and beautiful. I knew within a day of meeting you that there was something about you that was different. I knew that you were different from every other person I've ever met."

Tom dropped to one knee and pulled out a small, velvet box. Sybil gasped as she realized immediately what was happening.

"Sybil Crawley, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"Yes! Yes, Tom, I will!" Sybil cheered as she lunged for Tom, who quickly stood up. He wrapped his arms around his fiancée and the two spun around, both with happy tears forming in their eyes.

Finally, the pair slowed down and pressed their foreheads to each other as Tom slipped the ring onto Sybil's finger. Soon after, they broke into a fit of giggles. Several minutes later, Sybil whispered, "I think it's time we head home for the evening, don't you?"

"Gladly, my love."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The cab ride back to the duplex was steamy to say the least. The newly engaged pair was so caught up in the moment that they barely remembered that the cabbie was there at all. They threw some money up front when he announced they had arrived at the duplex, each of them barely parting lips for more than a few moments.

It was this reason that caused the passionate, but rather disoriented couple to venture towards Anthony and Tom's side of the duplex, instead of Edith and Sybil's like originally planned. Tom fished for his keys and miraculously managed to find them even with Sybil giggling and nibbling at his ear.

Tom pushed the door open and immediately heard a shriek and a grunt.

He and Sybil parted, only to be greeted by a rather dishevelled and red-lipped Edith and Anthony. Edith's hair was in a frenzy and Anthony, whose hair was equally messy, had been divested of his jacket and tie. The pair was standing a few feet apart near the sofa looking like two teenagers who had been caught by the headmaster.

There was a long, awkward silence. Sybil was the first to pipe up.

"So, it looks like you two had a _very _nice evening," she teased.

"So we did," Anthony replied, catching Edith's mischievous glance from the corner of his eye. "And did the two of you have a pleasant evening, as well?"

"As pleasant as can be," Tom said happily. He looked to Sybil, whose glance told him to wait until the morning to share their good news.

Anthony cleared his throat. "Well, Tom, I think we better let these ladies get their rest, don't you?"

Slightly dejected at his uncle's sense of propriety, Tom responded, "I suppose so, Uncle Anthony. I'll just see Sybil to her side, then."

The pair quickly said goodnight to Edith and Anthony, and scurried over to the other side of the duplex for a more private goodnight kiss.

Alone once again, Edith turned to Anthony and placed her hands on his chest, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. "I suppose this is 'goodnight,' isn't it?"

"It is, my sweet one," he said as he leaned in to kiss her once more.

As he pulled away, Edith chuckled.

"What is it, Edith?"

"Oh, nothing. Except that I came to London with the expressed purpose of living with Sybil for a few years. You know, two Crawley women taking London by storm. And now, it seems like that plan has been shot to hell. I don't think Sybil and I will be living together much longer, if you know what I mean."

"I do, my darling. What a predicament!" Anthony teased as he pulled her in for a final goodnight kiss.

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A/N: Well, that's all she wrote! I hope you liked this as much as I liked writing it. Now, it's back to writing _The Woman Behind the Counter _(my other modern AU Andith fic), which I have seriously neglected since starting this story.

Thanks again for all of the comments, follows, and favorites! You all rock! I'm going to try to get around to thanking all of you personally in the next few days (fingers crossed!).

Again, thank you so very much.

NJB


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